Draco had rushed down the hall, and went to find other Death Eaters. They praised him, and said how much he was like his father. They then asked him to come along back to the Room of Requirement. Everything was good.
He finally was coming into his own, and making all them pay. No Mudblood or Blood traitors would dare best a Malfoy again. He was still laughing as the Cruciatus curse began hitting people.
Then things changed. Suddenly it wasn't a game. It wasn't petty vengeance. It was real. And something inside him started to scream as though he was being hit with the curse.
Then he was told to help. Torture and kill. He raised his wand, and stepped forward proudly. Show them what it means to be a true Pureblood and a Malfoy.
His wand arm wavered, and he couldn't force the words past his lips.
Moments later, the other Death Eaters weren't so proud of him. Telling him he was weak. Soft. Unworthy. Why couldn't he do it?
Luckily before they could do anything to him, they started screaming, and grabbing their arms. The Dark Mark, shifting, changing, GONE?? And the murmerings. Dead. The Dark Lord was Dead. Truly dead... Impossible.
What have I done?
In the confusion, he ran. Just to get away. Good thing too, because the school began falling all around him. He stumbled down a flight of stairs, and possibly broke something. He just limped away, wanting to run. He was a traitor, as much as the rest of them. Likely to be arrested and sent to Azkaban.
Because he was his father's son. A Malfoy.
So why was he crying and feeling sick to his stomach? He rubbed his eyes with his sleeve, and just kept running, ignoring everybody else. Into the Forbidden Forest, and vanishing from sight.
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Date: 2006-07-01 09:09 pm (UTC)He finally was coming into his own, and making all them pay. No Mudblood or Blood traitors would dare best a Malfoy again. He was still laughing as the Cruciatus curse began hitting people.
Then things changed. Suddenly it wasn't a game. It wasn't petty vengeance. It was real. And something inside him started to scream as though he was being hit with the curse.
Then he was told to help. Torture and kill. He raised his wand, and stepped forward proudly. Show them what it means to be a true Pureblood and a Malfoy.
His wand arm wavered, and he couldn't force the words past his lips.
Moments later, the other Death Eaters weren't so proud of him. Telling him he was weak. Soft. Unworthy. Why couldn't he do it?
Luckily before they could do anything to him, they started screaming, and grabbing their arms. The Dark Mark, shifting, changing, GONE?? And the murmerings. Dead. The Dark Lord was Dead. Truly dead... Impossible.
What have I done?
In the confusion, he ran. Just to get away. Good thing too, because the school began falling all around him. He stumbled down a flight of stairs, and possibly broke something. He just limped away, wanting to run.
He was a traitor, as much as the rest of them. Likely to be arrested and sent to Azkaban.
Because he was his father's son. A Malfoy.
So why was he crying and feeling sick to his stomach? He rubbed his eyes with his sleeve, and just kept running, ignoring everybody else. Into the Forbidden Forest, and vanishing from sight.